My original thread posted from Africa.
https://forums.accuratereloading.com/eve/forums?a=tpc&f=1411043&m=777105529



I originally booked a Buffalo Hunt as my first Safari. I originally booked a trip to Zimbabwe. I originally prepared only for that hunt. And then I realized I was really missing the boat if I didn't also add some plainsgame to my original plans.
I put out a request for information and was contacted by L. David Keith: http://Grayghostsafaris.com Phone: 615-860-4333
David put me in touch with Woodlands Game ranch and Robert Zanoncelli my PH.
Before I go on, Yes this is a high fenced area and I saw fences. I had a very strong opinion about fences before going but have absolutely changed my ideas and thoughts on what constitutes fair chase. The area you will see in the photos is wild country. Very rough and oftentimes very steep. It required hard hunting and the built in stealth and ability of the animals we were after was a huge aid in them avoiding me and my rifle. Not to mention the fact that I was not prepared physically for the terrain. I used to hunt spot and stalk in high mountains a lot but was only walking a flat track five miles a day and should have included a couple miles of stairs along the way. I must also add that Robert and the owner Keith adjusted the hunt to fit me perfectly. We walked and stalked when required and they checked with me first before leading off into the tougher sections of terrain. I pushed myself when I could and hung back when I knew I should. There was one set of kloef we climbed that I insisted on because we had seen a fantastic Kudu from about 2 miles out. I was glad we made the hike but got back to the truck a while after the tracker and Robert did. We had been busted by a bunch of does we had not seen within shooting distance of the bull. That is the kind of fair chase country it was surrounded by fences or not.
Woodlands is a homestead ranch owned by Keith and his Wife Fran and they have dedicated themselves to the game ranch fully. The management of the animals and country is terrific. The ranch is made up of several smaller ranches which have been purchased and had fences removed allowing for some very large and wide open spaces. The points, outcroppings and kloefs allow for long range glassing and planning for long stalks. We used the Land cruiser for getting from point A to point B in preparation of stalking and hunting on foot and we did that plenty. Robert is an expert at getting up close and personal. He had to be, as my shooting was horrible.
Overall, I had a great time, ate like I was at the St.Francis in the city and enjoyed myself more that I had a right to. We shared great stories, great companionships and my education in Africa really began when I finally arrived.
I am going to go ahead and post a few photos of my trophies and am still adding images from my disks so I will be adding to this as I go but don't want to wait too long to get started.

Here are some images of the lodge, Woodlands Ranch and trophies taken there. Woodlands is located between Port Elisabeth and East London on the East Cape of Africa.



















The
Kudu seen here are all over 50 inches and the Bushbuck is over 20.






















Some of my trophies and some of the terrain.














The final trophy of my Woodlands hunt. I have already set plans for a return in 2010 in July.


Shortly after shooting the first warthog posted I had a very easy shot at an Impala that thought it was safe and for some dumb reason I missed it a country mile. It was my second miss in as many days, the first being a sleeping Lynx (Caracal) across a canyon. We were checking for Bushbuck and Rob the PH spotted a sleeping cat. When he asked if I was interested in giving it a go I said sure and proceeded to try and find a perch on our side of the canyon to steady my rifle and shoot the Cat on his side of the canyon. I held some over the top of the cat on the first shot and then with a dead brain to contend with I did it again both shots striking a foot or more high. My compensation for the distance was way off. I adjusted and woke the Lynx up with a spray of dust, rock and a noise too close for the cat to sleep through. It jumped a couple of feet into the air and landed six feet away staring back at where it had been sleeping. With no immediate threat at hand it walked a few steps and stepping into a brush pile went back to sleep. Three more shots and he had finally had enough and moved down the canyon stepping into and out of the brush, shadows and my line of sight. That's right 6 shots and nothing. I was totally bummed. you cannot imagine how I felt after missing the impala. When we got back to the ranch for brunch, I mumbled myself to my bed used a laser sight on the scope to see if it was still on and began to sulk about my poor shooting. I was really concerned that I was in real trouble if I couldn't shoot any better than that and all those stories of wounded buffalo stomping some innocent really had me rattled. Keith helped me get on with the day and we spent a short while setting the sights on the scope once again. We went to the shooting range and although Rob was able to group a couple of shots I had lost a lot of confidence in myself and my scope. A day or so later we spotted a good old Impala Ram walking along a hillside. We crossed over to the next canyon and started our walk and stalk. The Ram was ahead of us but was not walking as if it were alarmed and we were able to close the gap rather quickly. As we tracked along behind I happened to look deep into the brush and spotted the ram moving through the bush backtracking and sneaking away. Rob quickly set the sticks and I tried to steady my heartbeat and placed a shot a tiny bit back but a definite hit. We waited a moment and our tracker Sakki set off to the place the Ram was standing. Sakki does not speak that much English but gestured the open heart sympbol that he was very happy for me finally connecting. I guess he know how much anguish I was going through. As we approached the area where the ram had been, Rob's little Jack Russel Lion-hearted dog gave a yelp and was off like a shot. He had smelled blood and was on the trail and it was all we could do to keep up. The impala had not gone far- maybe fifty feet and then circled back a few yard before dropping but it was down nonetheless and I was pumped.
I had my opportunity at a fine impala with good spread and good height and it was old and worn and showed character and it was down. Did I mention I was pumped? Finally I thought I was settling in for some real hunting. Not so. I would miss again and make some poor shots but for a few minutes there I was pumped.


I didn't take long to get real excited about the game I was seeing. Lots of Wildebeest, Giraffe, Zebra, Red Hartebeast, waterbuck, eland, Mountain Reedbuck- don't even get me started on those little guys, along with the Vervet monkeys and Baboon. We had made a short run up onto the plateau behind the ranch and now was the time for some really long shots and Springbok, Blesbok and my requested Black Wildebeest.
On the way there I asked Rob if there were ever any springbok found where the tips of the antlers were touching. He stated he had seen that but it was not the trophy most were looking for. We made some vehicle approaches and realized these herd were not even willing to let the vehicles close and were going to move off and stay out there. The wind was blowing a bit and with my shooting I was really afraid I wouldn't ever get a shot. Rob and Keith talked it over and felt it best to set an ambush and wait for the animals to cross our path. We took residence against a bit of shrubbery and waited a little. Within a short period of time a group of Blesbok began passing and Rob pointed out a great large fellow in front but he was moving at a trot in and out of the group and I couldn't get on him quickly enough to make the shot. Rob never missed a beat and identified another good looking animal. He let me know it was not as large as the first but he was open and a nice trophy nonetheless. I was able to get on him and place the shot but again I was a tiny bit back and high and spined him. As we waited on him to pass Rob decided to run up the hill and finish him quickly as a group of springbok were moving our way and we didn't want them spooked. Within a few moments "my" requested springbok approached us alone and at a run. I was beginning to get the feel of the sticks and moving on them and put a shot into the springbok on the run but at only 50 meters or so. Unbelievable. Rob and I both just shook our heads that this horn set I had been asking about had been delivered. We held our position as another larger more traditional springbok approached at around 300 meters skylined on the ridge. I wouldn't want to try that shot but we waited quite a while for that trophy to approach. He never did and finally took off at racing speed and we moved on to collect the animals.




I will be adding more as I am able.
Frank

Frank,

Great Trophies so far and excellent pictures, but where are you?

Congrats on the hunt, got some nice animals.

Looks like a great location, and a great hunt! Congrats.

Congratulations, Frank! Awesome!

Frank,
Congrats on your successful hunt. Robert and Keith were very impressed with you, both as a fine Hunter and as a man. I can say you've made friends for life with those guys. Wish I could have been there. That ranch has been in the family for many generations and Keith's sister and her husband live here in Nashville. Good people. I look forward to reading more. Great pics by the way and some fine trophies. By the way, I'm going to measure that huge Bushbuck next time I'm there. If I remember correctly, it's never been entered in RW or SCI. I took my first Bushbuck off that ranch. He was very dark, almost black. One of my friends took a ram that was so old he'd lost all his front teeth and the molars were worn flat with the gum line. He was shot in the alfalfa fields. I guess he was gumming his food
Good hunting,
David

Great pictures Frank. It looks like a beautiful place.

Very nice Frank. I think everones first safari should be PG. Get your feet wet, see how things work, then get home & plan fro your DG hunt. Great warthog. I'm still looking for a good one.

Frank, I am thrilled you experienced Africa at its finest.. Good shooting! I do hope you can make Dallas in January... For an account of your time in Africa...

Mike

Frank,

Nice everything! That photographer has imspired me to take a close up of every trophy. Nice work.

Congrats,

Mark

Fantastic photos,report and trophies!!!

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!

quote:

Originally posted by Kathi:
Fantastic photos,report and trophies!!!

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!

Thank you very much Kathi.
I also want everyone to know that Kathi was a tremendous help in my having such a great time. Somehow she managed to get my seat placed right behind a seat that had been removed for repair that very day according to the steward on board.
It made the 18 hours flying time great with lots of room to stretch. No really, Kathi saved my bacon after I got to J'berg.
Here is the story. I arrived in time to walk through the line and gather my luggage from the carousel. I walked right past the signup for firearms and around the corner to the new SAPS office. Turned in my passport and paperwork and when asked about my rifles, I replied "yes I am sure they are here". They weren't and the kind woman behind the counter told me I had to go back around and sign for my rifles to be brought around to the SAPS office. I said sure and off I went back around. Wanna know what lesson I learned? NEVER GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT YOUR PASSPORT AND PAPERWORK!
I had some serious 'splaining to do about being in an airport behind security without a passport and trying to claim rifles without paperwork. Luckily for me I recognized a police officer I had stopped to talk with when I first cleared customs and security and even luckier, he remembered me. We walked through security and into back rooms and past a bunch of workers who kept saying NO WAY! but let me through while I simply followed the gentleman and acted like I was supposed to be there. Finally getting to where I was supposed to be I pulled out the paperwork Kathi had sent me ahead of time and read the directions of what I was really
supposed to be doing and everything was suddenly so easy and smooth and worked out just fine.
Of course I had fooled around so long that my escort from the Afton house had come and waited and was now transporting the other hunters to the house. Once again Kathi to the rescue. She had included all the information I needed to call Afton House and Annalise sent the van back to pick me up before they got out of the parking lot.
And so off we went to Afton to meet my next great Safari Assistants. Everyone there from Dean, Arild, and the others and Analise were super helpful and made me feel as welcome as I would in visiting my family at home. What a wonderful way to spend my first evening in Africa. We had a terrific Brie, a wonderful meal a few drinks and a long night of conversation and sharing of stories with other newbies like me, with returning hunters and a 14th safari veteran. Great times.
A little later in the evening I realized the helpful officer at the SAPS office had not included my itinerary back to me with my passport. Analise and Kathi to the rescue. I had another copy of all my future flights by breakfast and was ready to continue my trip.
You must spend your first night with Afton House. They treat you as a returning family member and provided a very restful atmosphere after a very long flight.
A couple of very big "THANK YOUs" from me to them all.
Anyone want more info just call or read these posts for the multitude of individuals who have been so well satisfied.

Frank

My roomy seat on the flight along with the great meal they provided.






Afton House

Great trophies! Thanks for sharing..
How big is that mounted steenbok? Looks like one big fellow.. Don`t get me wrong. Yours is very fine as well!

quote:

Originally posted by Anders:
Great trophies! Thanks for sharing..
How big is that mounted steenbok? Looks like one big fellow.. Don`t get me wrong. Yours is very fine as well!

Yes it is quite a bit larger than mine but alas I don't measure so didn't even think to ask the size.

Frank

what way to explane great,and thankx for sharing,i have a question one of the kudu trophy has a split ear my kudu has the same prob how to fix any suggestions,regards

quote:

Originally posted by markhor:
what way to explane great,and thankx for sharing,i have a question one of the kudu trophy has a split ear my kudu has the same prob how to fix any suggestions,regards

Perhaps a taxidermist might try to suggest a fix.

Thanks Frank, gret report. Super pictures and great looking trophies! jorge

Frank,
you most certainly have an eye for composition and lighting!

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Rusty:
Frank,
you most certainly have an eye for composition and lighting!
Thanks Rusty. I appreciate that as I know you are involved in photography. Robert was very carful about the setups of the animal and I got lucky with this using a flash and having the skyline broken by the cabbage tree in the background.
Frank

A few days into my week with Woodlands near East London I realized finding a large bull Kudu was not an easy task. The cover was thick, the Kudu were smart and the weather was fickle. The wind had been blowing hard the first few days and then some heat came in and with the full moon in place we were working hard to find what we wanted.
I had seen a couple of monster Kudu at dusk and from great distance in heavy bush but finding one within my reach was proving difficult. Keith had come out with us on the 4th or 5th morning and taken us to one of his favorite lookout points. From this overlook we were able to look into several canyons protected from the wind and providing shade for most of the morning.
It didn't take long to spot several groups of Kudu along with several bulls. All mostly small and young but after less than an hour Keith and Rob started discussing the merits of a tall bull they could see a long way off. I took much longer to find it but they talked me in and it looked terrific for me and with a reasonable stalk we were sure we could get into shooting position.
I found it very satisfying throughout my hunt to participate in the discussion about the animals, their merits and to have Rob help me see all the different animals we were finding daily.
Once the decision was made we began what was to be the longest, slowest albeit not the toughest stalk of the week.
We were taking two and three steps down and across the canyon behind brush under brush and constantly checking the whereabouts of the Bull and all the does and calves we were bumping into. My job was to keep up. Tough work for a flatlander, out of shape, newbie in the bush. Finally after some maneuvering Rob put us within 100 yards of the Bull which had continued to browse and move along the hillside. He was partially blocked but we were now stuck as a pair of does and calves had spotted us and were staring us down. We didn't want to spook them or the bull so we set sticks and started the wait for the bull to clear a cabbage tree.
I learned a great lesson at this point as Rob began coaching me not to stare at the bull through the scope but rather to watch with both eyes and wait for the bull to clear first. He was certainly right as I felt much more relaxed and calm than I had all week.
As the bull began to move I set up and watched as he walked straight at us. Finally as he began to turn I fired and caught him just back of the ribs and high dropping him with the classic nose up butt down drop of a spine shot. "Finally a one shot kill" from Rob and a great smile from Sakki our tracker. I was finally relieved to not have to go chasing or shooting again to drop the bull.
We moved him out and Rob started his photography preparations. All I could think was that I had taken a real African Trophy.
Sakki with the bull in the bush and
Putting the tape on for the records. 48 and 1/2 on our right 46 ans 1/2 on our left.
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Keith and Sakki with my bull. Keith grew up and has continued to live on the ranch. He began the game ranching a few years ago and has been providing management practices which provide 29 different species available for the visitor.




My Bull.

Throughout the hunt my companion had been Rob's little lion-hunter Cassey or Caseman as he was affectionately called. This little guy would hang back with me as we hiked and would act as our rear guard on the trail of the next target. While we searched the horizons and deep canyons he slept and waited and didn't bother himself with the intricacies of where we went or why we went there. He just followed along and went there too if thats what we wanted.
At the shot he was suddenly awakened into a mass of muscle and tension. I swear he grew three feet between the time of the shot and the flash that he became as he chased a wounded animal. His bark was different his eyes were narrow and his transformation to the hunter was dramatic. This evidenced itself fully on the last day when Rob spotted a bush Duiker a short distance from the road.
We moved from the truck and Rob was peering up a bank when I spotted the little brown spot on the hillside staring right at us. Rob had set the sticks and was crouching low as I approached. He whispered the whereabouts of the Duiker and as I raised to set the sticks I saw the tiny horns leading down the leg to the portion of the body I could see. He was twisted looking back over his shoulder as if preparing to run but unsure of the danger. As I leaned into the scope and fired he took off. I knew I had hit him but didn't know positively where.
Rob and I moved forward as did the Caseman and then off he went barking and yelping as a demon possessed by the centuries of hunting balled up within the core of the little dog.
And off we went as well. We could see him pulling away and we ran across the open and in and out of the brush trying as we could to keep up. When he stopped his bark we slowed and listened and waited and watched and then his yelp as he picked up the track began again we ran to close the distance. We found blood, dark and red without froth and I knew the hit was in muscle and not vitals. Again cassey would howl and again we would run for all we were worth. Rob twisted his ankle at one point and my heart was pounding from my chest and my thought searched my memory trying to remember if I'd packed the Nitro just in case.
After some time it all stopped. No barking so sound whatsoever and then the tracks let up and were gone. Sakki came to the front and we followed our tracker, trying to stay with the "Hunter" following the Duiker, a devil in disguise. It was hot and I was bushed. We were moving through tangles of Acacia thorn and bramble and short shrubs grabbing and pulling in every direction away from the trail.
And then in the quite of the open spaces that terrible scream of the Duiker being grabbed by Cassey. They were only feet away in the thorn but we couldn't see them and we couldn't get through. Casey yelped out not in conquest but in pain and off they went again. The Duiker flew past me on three legs and Cassey right behind. I threw up the rifle instinctively and heard Rob yell out to watch for the tracker. I could see Sakki safe from my line of fire but the duiker was moving too fast and was too small for me to ever get a shot off. Into the brush they went again followed by the hair-raising scream of the Duiker again. This time Rob could see them but I couldn't so I gave him the rifle and he attempted a shot. He missed but Cassey had the Duiker pinned and held firm long enough for Sakki to grab the Duiker and place a blad at the back of the head for the kill. I finally fought my way through the tangle and watched as Cassey let loose and flopped onto the sand totally spent and wounded as well. Luckily he was not dangerously hurt. I could never have lived with that due to my poor shot. I had shot low and clipped the right leg while blowing the left completely off with only a dangle of skin holding the leg onto the body. That little guy had run us two miles on 2 good legs and half another while dragging the fourth.

After a few minutes of absorbing the events I turned to Rob and let him know I was going to be sending my Heart Specialist a thank you letter for fixing me up so well. If I was able to make that run and still stand my heart was just fine and I wouldn't be needing him any longer.

Time to rest.
and With Rob, hunting buddies to the ends of the world.






Thorns, Thorns and more thorns.


The Duiker that tried to kill me by running us to death on 2 and 1/2 legs.

One afternoon we had a little lunch in the field. A perfectly packed box of goodies and a grilling of Sausage and rolls.
Keith is an avid Birder and was able to identify most of the birds by their call alone.

duplicate

BUSHPIG MEANS SHOOT!

As we were nearing the end of my time with Woodlands we took a look at a couple of deep canyons. We had spent a couple of days looking for a particular mountain reedbuck I had taken a shot at earlier in the week. As we were driving along I heard Keith yelling from the back of the truck and Sakki tapping the cab to indicate something was spotted. bushpig! bushpig! I looked at the opposite hillside and spotted 5 Bushpigs running full tilt in parrallel with our truck just as the truck slammed to a halt. As had been our practice I slowly stepped from the cab and stepped to the back of the truck to wait instructions about which to shoot. I had taken maybe one step when I heard the first report and then the next and then another. Rob and Keith were on the ground shooting at these running bushpig as quickly as possible and I watched as dust went flying from behind the miniature torpedos. Maybe one was hit as I saw a roll and by the time I had grabbed my rifle and drawn on them they had covered another quarter mile. The cross canyon was a measure 175 meters and my shots were well behind the bunch. As soon as they were close enough they dived into deep cover and went running up the ravine on the way to a very deep canyon far up the draw. We pursued o either side of the ravine and threw rocks and watched but they had all but disappeared. I walked along hoping to see them and as the failing light dropped reached the end of the open space and saw that the creek bed became a small falls that let into a narrow canyon with kloef on both sides.
As I was about to return I noticed a tiny black spot standing in a trail on the opposite side. I eased up and noticed it was swaying back and forth looking like a very sick little piggy. I tried my best to settle into a good shooting position but finding a good spot to sit or kneel was impossible on the side of the cliff. I finally got a bit of a sight on the pig and saw another run past the first. At the shot I knew I had missed. Dust sprayed above and behind the pig and it was off.
Keith came forward at the shot and I told him there was a sick pig up the trail and he began the trek down the canyon with Rob following. They found blood where the pig had been standing and followed up along with the trackers into the really dense brush. I knew I would do them no good in that mess and stayed back and waited until hearing the next shot and knowing they had collected the wounded pig.


The flying torpedo. Photographed the next day as it was dark, dark by the time the trackers carried it up out of the gorge.

great pics and stories Frank.
David

Thanks David. It has been fun reliving the days I spent there.
One thing I have not gone over which I will next is the great care and wonderful hospitality I received.
Frank

Congratulations Frank, on both the stories and the pictures.

Other animals seen.

And then the dreaded paperwork.
Even hunting has its problem areas.
I do this all day every day and boy was I glad it was them and not me.

The drive to the airport and East London allowed me to see some of Sout Africas lifestyle and the Architecture of Grahamstown.

Great report, Great pictures. I really appreciated the ones showing the trip back to the airport, usually don't see these but are part of the total experience.

Thanks for your replies. I have only one more part to add and then on to another my second safari in Zimbabwe.
This is really about the people that made it all so valuable for me.
I am starting with everyone here at AR. When I first signed on I already had a very deep love of All Things Africa but had convinced myself I was never going to be able to get there. Reading and meeting you fine people changed all that in me. The stories and the commaraderie and sharing life experiences convinced me that I had to seek a means of achieving my goal to get there and live the dream.
Saeed has provided the venue and the experience and more fun with his lifetime of hilarious tales and adventures with Walter and I really want to thank him for the privilage he has afforded us all to join in on the fun.
When I requested help in booking a hunt countless numbers of individuals offered suggestions and help and I was very luck to have selected L. David Keith's offering to pursue. David has repeatedly helped me with the bookings with contacting the PH, with arranging my package and the shipping and has answered and responded quickly with valuable tips on what to do and how to do it. David hooked me up with the perfect PH and the best of locations.
Robert Zanoncelli was my PH. He will be my PH again. We hunted the way I wanted to hunt and he hunted at my speed and level of ability which was pretty shaky there. We enjoyed the time in the bush and I was really appreciative of the fact that he still loves hunting even after all the years he has spent guiding and helping others achieve their goals. He also has a wonderful wife and children and I know their lives are truly blessed.
Keith and Fran the owners/managers of Woodlands opened their home to me and allowed me to see the and share with them the life of South Africans experiencing change in their country. We shared homemade meals and stories of their lives in Eden.
And finally although she will probable never read this I have to tell you all that I have got to thank my wife who suffered for me the months of preparation and practice and neglect I paid her while I was looking to achieve my own dreams. Throughout it all she encouraged me to move forward and make the best of things when I had to reduce my safari savings due to other more important issues. While I was gone the painting contractor I left behind quit and she was forced to find another on her own and go over all the details that entails. And still after leaving her to deal with all that when I returned she was as happy for me having had such a great time as if she had enjoyed it all herself. I only hope I can return the enthusiasm next year when it is her vacation we are going on.

And then to Zimbabwe with part 2.
Frank

Hey Frank: What's with the Frisbee and the two yo-yos in the settling up pic?

quote:

Originally posted by Use Enough Gun:
Hey Frank: What's with the Frisbee and the two yo-yos in the settling up pic?

I nearly forgot.
I brought those along to give as gifts to the kids that I might meet up with. Those were there for my trackers kids but I have to tell you some of the skinners had never had a chance to use a YO-Yo in their life. They kind of knew about the frisbee and we spent a little leisure time playing with it out back.

Frank.
I really enjoyed your story and your pictures.
Thank you so much for sharing